


See You When I See You

by creativesuperhero



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Infidelity, Headcanon, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Pre Series/Season 5, Pre-Slash, Season 5 coda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 22:19:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4683446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creativesuperhero/pseuds/creativesuperhero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek leaves and he doesn't say goodbye. </p>
<p>+</p>
<p> “You’re leaving,” Stiles finally said, quiet and hoarse but shattering the silence like a gunshot shattered glass. </p>
<p>Derek’s eyes opened, bright watercolour eyes catching Stiles’ and stopping him from bolting like he always did, running from the feeling that rose in his chest when he looked at Derek, when Derek looked at him… It was too much, too much feeling, too much for Stiles to handle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	See You When I See You

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is my first fic I'm publishing to AO3, so let's see how this goes, huh? I wanted to start relatively small, and this was partly inspired by Stiles' look when he found Derek's initials on the shelf. I wanted to know what kind of goodbye they had that might of put that there and this headcanon spilled out. 
> 
> Un'beated but I've tried my best to catch anything glaringly wrong. If I missed something, go ahead and point it out. 
> 
> Comments and kudos would mean the world to me, cause if you like this, I have a bunch of ideas to keep me going!
> 
> Little notice about the Emotional Infidelity tag; Stiles is still in a relationship with Malia in this fic but he has strong feelings for Derek that's he's still coming to terms with. It's also implied, from Stiles' POV, that Derek and Braeden are still together. I have nothing against Malia and Braeden; they're both amazing. 
> 
> And that's it! Here we go...
> 
> \-----

It was approaching dusk, the sky purple-yellow like a bruise, when Stiles pulled the Jeep on the overlook point of the Preserve. Derek’s soccer-mom Toyota was parked to his left, packed and ready to go. He sat in the Jeep for a few minutes, staring at Derek’s strong, dark silhouette through the somewhat dirty windshield. He’d need to take her in for a good wash soon - if anybody deserved something good in their life, it was his Jeep. 

Stiles plucked up his so-called courage and stumbled out of the Jeep, legs tripping over themselves in the way they always did. Derek didn’t turn around to face him as he approached; that was fine. Stiles knew Derek knew he was there. He did, however, wonder if Derek knew why Stiles was there, though. He supposed it was time to find out, at any rate. 

Stiles breathed in the dying spring air - it was the middle of May, the clean spring sliding into a too-hot summer, and honestly? Stiles was a little (maybe a lot) surprised Derek had stayed this long after Mexico Again. Or Mexico 2.0? Mexico the Revival? He shook off his misfiring thoughts. Being back on Adderall, after… well, after not being on Adderall, was still like trying to regain balance after a near-slip on a tightrope. Nothing seemed to align quite right anymore, not even something as common and mundane as his Adderall prescription. 

When he stopped walking to slid into the space at Derek’s right, fidgeting hands stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie, that felt like something finally aligning right. Like his center of gravity could finally stop stumbling around, grappling for purchase while Stiles spun out of control. The permanent points of tension in his shoulders released and the mellow evening air started swirling freely in this lungs. He never was good at noticing the background buzz of anxiety, the tension and the twitching breathing, until something made it calm. These days, one those “somethings” seemed to be Derek.

Stiles didn’t have many “somethings”.

He chanced a glance at Derek, drinking in his profile, elegant and sharp and beautiful. Stiles dragged his bottom lip between his teeth, nibbled and licked at the skin. Derek’s eyes were shut, feathered lashes kissing the delicate skin under his eyes, and his brow was relaxed, the tightness around his mouth gone soft. His broad chest rose and fell with his even breaths and Stiles’ eyes couldn’t help but the track the shift of Derek’s strong collarbones on display through the wide v-neck of his t-shirt. 

Stiles liked this Derek, he did; mature, centered, finally starting to let go and heal from all his burdens. He still had his rough edges, though, that bite to him that Stiles secretly relished in. Though maybe that was something only Stiles could see because of own sharper points. Or maybe it was wishful thinking on his part. 

Still, Stiles was glad that Derek was finding out how to be happy again, even if that meant leaving Beacon Hills, or living out the rest of his life as a wolf in the Rockies, or shacking up with Braeden. 

Stiles knew Derek was waiting for him to break the careful silence between them and he wished he didn’t have to be the one to do this - he didn’t to know what the fuck to say, or how to say it, or if there was anything to say in the first place. 

Wait, scratch that. 

There was just _too _many things to say that Stiles didn’t know where to start, or even if he understood them all. As much Derek seemed to steady his trembling grip on gravity, he simultaneously managed to throw Stiles right off kilter with how he made Stiles feel.__

“You’re leaving,” Stiles finally said, quiet and hoarse but shattering the silence like a gunshot shattered glass. 

Derek’s eyes opened, bright watercolour eyes catching Stiles’ and stopping him from bolting like he always did, running from the feeling that rose in his chest when he looked at Derek, when Derek looked at him… It was too much, too much feeling, too much for Stiles to handle. 

“Yeah,” Derek said on a breath, his body turning slightly, leaning subtly into Stiles’ personal space. 

Stiles almost expected himself to tense but he - didn’t. He didn’t tense and he didn’t know why he was surprised, why he’s constantly surprised at what Derek does and doesn’t make him feel. 

“That’s -” Stiles coughed roughly, “that’s good - that’s, good for you.” 

_God _, why was he so fucking shit at this?__

“Is it?” Derek asked steadily, eyes still so intent on Stiles’ face and Stiles wondered what he saw. 

Sometimes, when Stiles looked at Derek now, he saw him with bright blood smearing his mouth and eyes shut against what he’d known was inevitable. Didn’t matter that Derek was right there, strong and solid and real and evolved like some sort of Pokemon. Stiles would never forget Derek dying, no matter the fact that he was alive now. He’ll never forget the cold pressure in his chest, like he was drowning without water. 

“Is it good that you’re leaving?” Stiles said needlessly. “Uh, yeah, dude, it’s fucking great that you’re leaving. This place, this town, it’s so fucked up. You know that, I know that, even _Scott _knows that, regardless of his eternal optimism in the face of imminent death and danger. This place is hell, Derek, for you more than most. Yeah, it’s good that you’re leaving, get the hell out of here, man, don’t look back. God knows -” Stiles cut himself off.__

_God knows I wish I could _, Stiles finished in his head, for a split-second not feeling guilty about it. But he couldn’t - it all came flooding back right after the thought, all the reasons why he couldn’t, couldn’t just get in his Jeep and drive. His Dad, Scott, Malia, Lydia… He needed to be here.__

Derek looked a little pained, like he knew what Stiles had been going to say and wanted to say something about it. Stiles didn’t know what, exactly, he would have said, but it didn’t matter, because Derek didn’t say it. 

“Glad to have your approval,” Derek said wryly, stepping off the path of Stiles’ emotions with grace. 

“Don’t need my approval,” Stiles shrugged, more casual than he felt. “You can do what you like.” 

“Hmm,” Derek said and it sounded like _Yes, I do _.__

There was a thick, burning feeling in Stiles’ throat, and when he swallowed, it hurt. He didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to put this on Derek, and he wouldn’t, he couldn’t. It would be less than unfair. 

Except - 

When he looked at Derek, it hurt. When he thought about Derek, it hurt. When he let the reality of Derek leaving sink in, it hurt. The calm safety he felt standing at Derek’s side _hurt _. Stiles didn’t want loving Derek to hurt, he didn’t, but it did anyway. It was easy loving him though, maybe because they kept it silent between them, never acknowledged it, not really.__

Sometimes, like now, Stiles just wanted to say it. Why couldn’t he just admit it? Stiles just wanted to admit it, then capture Derek’s wrist between his fingers, tell him not to leave, to stay, stay for him, please… Maybe they’d kiss, maybe it’d be the best kiss of Stiles’ life. 

Stiles and Derek didn’t say anything and they didn’t kiss. 

Stiles wanted to, though. _Fuck _, did he want to. It wouldn’t even have to be a deep kiss; he just wanted to know what Derek’s lips felt like against his, how soft, how hot, how they slid and caught on his own. He wanted to know if Derek would cup his face in hands, or nibble at his lips, or suck on his tongue. Okay, maybe he wanted it to be a deep kiss.__

The thought of Malia, warm and blunt and oddly comforting, made him not say anything. The thought of Braeden, competent and good with Derek, made him keep his hands stuffed deep in pockets. The thought of all the disappointed, confused looks from his Dad kept him from leaning further into Derek’s space and letting their orbits re-align to each other. 

Stiles just wondered and wanted; wondered if he would always be left wanting when it came to Derek and him. 

For a few, charged moments, Stiles and Derek stared at each other. Stiles felt too big for his skin, wanted to burst out of his own body with how much he fucking felt for Derek fucking Hale. The anger wasn’t new - it was just as common as the fondness, and the desperation, and the calm safety. 

“I should go,” Derek broke the silence, his shoulders sloping down in something like defeat, or regret, something Stiles wasn’t ready to analyse. 

The burn in his throat got worse, along with the startling burn in his eyes. Still, he managed to talk, talking was what Stiles did, even if he never said anything. 

“Yeah, okay, that’s -” Stiles couldn’t finish, didn’t know what he’d finish with. See you on the flip side? See ya later? Goodbye?

“Good -” Derek started, voice low and hesitant. Stiles wondered what his heartbeat was doing, what his scent was giving off to make Derek hesitate. 

_“Don’t.”_

The word felt too harsh from Stiles’ mouth, felt like a demand and Stiles didn’t want to demand anything from Derek but - 

Stiles could handle Derek leaving. Could handle what ever Derek decided to do with his life, away from Beacon Hills. Could maybe even handle never seeing Derek again, as long as Derek was safe and happy and alive. 

But he couldn’t handle Derek saying goodbye. If Derek said that, he’d break, he knew he would. It might launch him into a full blown panic attack. The thought of Derek kissing him invaded Stiles’ mind again and - and. God, Stiles needed to stop, stop thinking about it, thinking about what couldn’t have. 

“Don’t what?” Derek prompted evenly, something tender in his eyes, and Stiles couldn't handle that either, so he looked at his shoes. 

“Say goodbye,” Stiles finally said, voice hollow, bereft and exhausted. “Don’t say goodbye.”

“You said -” Derek started, frowning, and Stiles wanted to sooth with his fingers, let his hands cup Derek’s face. 

“I know what I said,” Stiles bit out, “and it’s true, it _is _. But - but don’t say goodbye. Just don’t.”__

He let his eyes come up from his shoes, letting Derek see how desperately sincere he was, all of it in his heartbeat and his scent and his eyes. 

“Okay,” Derek said lowly and Stiles just wanted to curl up in Derek’s voice, feel it vibrate against his skin and nerves, lighting him up from the inside. 

“‘Kay,” Stiles mumbled, lost in the tumble of his feelings. 

“I still need to go though,” Derek said, like he didn’t want to say it at all. 

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed vacantly. “I know.”

Derek took himself out of Stiles’ space, stepping back and - there it was again. Stiles was suddenly cold without ever realising he had been warm to begin with. Goddamn werewolves and their furnace-level heat. Derek had turned his back and walked three steps before he turned back around, something determined and desperate in the twist of mouth and the hard set of his eyes. 

“I -” Derek started and Stiles held his breath, pressure rising in his throat, in his lungs.

“I’ll see you when I see you, Stiles.”

Stiles breathed. The pressure evaporated and the sting in his eyes cleared. He almost expected a pang of disappointment, but it didn’t come. That was - that was just what he needed to hear, actually. 

“Yeah,” Stiles said easily, “see ya, Derek.” 

Derek nodded, eyes glancing down for a moment, before he turned again and walked back to his car. Stiles watched as Derek climbed in, start the engine, let the headlights flood the cliff point and Stiles with bright light. There was something both heavy and light in his chest, watching Derek drive away, leaving his Jeep and him alone. 

_I’ll see you when I see you, Stiles. ___

It better than anything else Derek might have said. Definitely better than a goodbye, that’s for sure. Stiles smiled, something painful and bright and bittersweet. He was allowed time, this wasn’t the end, not really.

It certainly wasn’t the end if Stiles and Derek didn’t allow it to be. And that - that was the best knowledge in the world, right now. 

Stiles walked back to his Jeep, and when he drove away, it was in the opposite direction of Derek. 

That was okay, though, Stiles could handle that, because it didn’t mean that their directions wouldn’t find each other again.


End file.
